


Home Is Where You Are Not (Part 2)

by AgataVarano



Series: Scar [18]
Category: Doctor Strange (2016), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Demonic Possession, Demons, F/M, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Memory Loss, Song Lyrics, Torture, pls protect it at all costs, song: ich gehore dir nicht (8kids), the cloak of levitation is a baby
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-02
Updated: 2021-02-02
Packaged: 2021-03-14 00:53:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,448
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29162967
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AgataVarano/pseuds/AgataVarano
Summary: Lara is taking no shit and we should all appreciate it, periodt.
Relationships: Natasha Romanov (Marvel) & Original Male Character(s), Original Female Character & Original Male Character, Stephen Strange & Original Character(s), Stephen Strange/Original Female Character(s), Steve Rogers & Original Male Character(s), Tony Stark & Original Male Character(s), Tony Stark & Stephen Strange, Vision (Marvel) & Original Male Character(s)
Series: Scar [18]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1826437
Kudos: 1





	Home Is Where You Are Not (Part 2)

**Author's Note:**

> • English is not my first language so I'm sorry if there are any mistakes.  
> • You can find this and more fics on my Tumblr @/let-me-write-my-life and my Instagram @/agata_varano.

_ Home is where you can’t reach me. - 8kids (Ich gehöre dir nicht) _

“How the hell was I supposed to know this place was haunted?”

Stephen groans, moving a strand of hair behind Lara’s ear. “ _ Maybe _ by doing some research?” The bitterness in his voice doesn’t fail to hide his concern, at least not to Jonathan. He knew it, he knew something like that would have happened.  _ “One does not simply break a wall of a high-security cell.” _

Lara shakes her head under his touch, furrowing her brows. When she opens her eyes suddenly, her reaction makes Stephen’s blood freeze. With a scream, she jumps to her feet, tasting her jeans for whatever weapon she expected to find.

Jonathan approaches her, a hand tightly holding her shoulder as he scans her face. “Lara, are you oka-”

He doesn’t have the time to finish when a punch hits his jaw, sending him on the floor not far from where Stephen is still kneeling. “How the hell do you know my name?” she asks, her scared expression moving between the two men.

Stephen gets up slowly, his hands raised up before his chest, but he doesn’t have the time to speak because a kick to the door interrupts them, sending the burnt wood on the floor. Alex and two other men stare at them, guns aimed and ready to shoot.

But even the psychopath terrorist doesn't know what to say when Lara runs to hug him, wrapping her arms tightly around his shoulders and burying her nose in the crook of his neck. After a moment, a wide grin appears on his face and he moves a hand to caress her back. “Nice to see you too, baby girl.”

Jonathan points his gun at him. “Don’t you dare touch her!” he screams, but Alex smirks and turns to his mates.

“Handcuff them,” he orders. Stephen is about to use magic on them, but Alex promptly moves his gun to Lara’s temple, forcing him to stop. “Don’t play tricks, wizard.” A shiver runs down Lara’s spine, Stephen can see it even from a distance. 

A short redhead man rips off the Cloak from his shoulders, something that the sentient relic doesn’t seem to appreciate as it begins fighting his grip, trying to get back to its master. But a glance from Stephen and the sound of Alex coughing as he gets closer, his gun pressed against Lara’s nape, convinces it to calm down.

Alex grins and hands Lara his gun, gesturing to the two men forced to their knees before them. “I leave you the honour,” he jokes, enjoying the sight of Jonathan’s face turning as pale as a sheet.

Lara takes the weapon and wraps her hand tightly around the handle, her eyes scanning Alex’s face for something, Stephen isn’t sure what, but probably neither is Lara. Finally she takes a step towards Stephen and presses the cold barrel to his forehead. In that moment, her breath heavies and her grip tightens so much that she could almost break the dark metal. When her eyes meet his, she freezes, as if struck by a bolt of lightning. “I- I can’t…” she mumbles. She turns around sheepishly, her gaze barely reaching Alex’s chest. “I don’t know why, but I just ca-”

Alex’s punch to her face makes her fall right before Stephen, blood trailing down her nose as she looks at him with the most hurt expression a human being can possibly make. She whispers an apology, moving her eyes to the floor as they water. This scene alone is enough for the Cloak to escape the man holding it and float beside Lara, moving a flap to her arm and doing its best to reassure her.

But unlike what the relic expected, she screeches and jumps to her feet, while the poor Cloak is kicked away by a very pissed Alex. He turns to her, anger written all over his face. “You see? The wizard and his pet are dangerous!” He screams. “Make him pay for this,” he concludes, handing her a knife and pushing her against Stephen.

She looks around herself, her heart beating so loud in her chest that Stephen can hear it better than his own. She looks so sorry and scared that he would be okay with her killing him on the spot, even if that would pleasure that psychopath of her ex more than anything.

Alex walks to her side, wrapping an arm around her waist. The gesture makes goosebumps erupt on her skin and she swallows. “I’m sure our friend would love you to cut his palms, don’t you think?” His mouth grazes her earshell. “I love you when you torture people.”

Finally he takes a step back and Lara reaches for Stephen’s hands, handcuffed before him. Her fingertips trail one of the many scars running down his fingers and she hesitates, biting the inside of her cheek. He swallows and leans as close to her as he can, until his mouth is breaths away from the side of her face. “Elle, it’s okay,” he whispers into her ear, struggling to keep his voice steady.

She nods weakly and inspects his hands, studying the complex pattern of preexisting cuts. And finally, she begins her diligent work as Alex’s eyes brighten at the sight of blood and Stephen bites his lip to hold back a scream. Her knife runs down every scar with impressive precision and her fingers quickly stain with blood, even though this doesn’t seem to affect the smoothness of her movements.

She has already covered both his palms in drawings, when a guy who looks more like a wardrobe than a man storms into the room, forehead covered in sweat. “S.H.I.E.L.D. is here!” he yells.

In a matter of seconds, Alex forces Lara to her feet by her wrist, earning nothing but a weak gasp from her as he drags her out of the room. She tries to fight his grip, but an elbow to her stomach convinces her to follow the group.

What gives Jonathan the strength to argue with everyone in a moment like that, Stephen will never understand it. The man screams at Steve to shut up, then complains that S.H.I.E.L.D. let Alex escape, then begins cursing with an anger that the sorcerer has never seen displayed even by Lara. He stops, trying in vain to get Lara out of his thoughts before he has a breakdown and guilt takes over him. Again.

“Hey man, how about you calm down and tell us what happened?” Sam says, interrupting both Jonathan’s rant and Stephen’s thoughts.

“A demon tried to possess Lara and delete her memory.” It’s Stephen to answer coldly. “It was the same one that let Main escape. Now she won't remember us for a day or two, not more.”

Jonathan points a killer gaze at him. “Wait, you knew  _ that thing was around? _ ”

“You really thought that assh*le could afford to corrupt an entire prison?” Stephen bites back. “Must be nice having the brain activity of a chair.”

Natasha groans and drags Jonathan away from Stephen before he can break his jaw. “Whatever, we have bigger problems now.”

Steve shakes his head. “I’m not sure we should do this.” He is forced to explain himself when he notices the Cloak hovering behind him. “I mean, I doubt Johnson will happily follow us.”

“And?” Jonathan’s tone lowers a few hertz, his arms crossing dangerously tightly before his chest.

“And what if she uses her powers on us?”

“She won’t,” Stephen replies and if eyes could kill, in that moment his definitely would.

Tony crosses his arms and looks down, his hands shaking ever so slightly. “Steve may have a point, Sparkles. The fact that in normal condition she would not hurt us doesn’t mean anything.”

Jonathan jumps forward, freeing himself of Natasha’s grip around his wrist. “So what? You're gonna leave her alone?”

Vision tries to calm Jonathan, using his inhuman strength to prevent him from attacking anyone. “Mister Houghton, Doctor Strange said the curse may be temporary, if we-”

“If we what? We wait until that psychopath kills her?” Every attempt to bring the conversation back to a calmer tone seems vain, especially considering Jonathan’s rising tone and Steve's apparently definitive decision not to intervene with the fervor the other man is expecting.

Finally Jonathan has enough. “Fine, I don’t need your help.” And without further explanations, he storms out of the room. Tony screams his name in an effort to stop him, but the man is already gone. When the inventor turns around, he notices that Stephen has disappeared too.

As he leaves the base, Jonathan is surprised by the number of deities he apparently knows as he curses them one by one. In the tiny parking lot, he tries to figure out how his car got there, in the middle of nowhere. But after another curse spoken under his breath, he decides that he doesn’t care that much. Struggling with his keys, he tries to think of an efficient way to find his sister.

His thought process is interrupted by a cough. He turns around in a start, but lets out a sigh when he sees it’s just Stephen. “This is not the time to show off how annoying you can be, Strange,” he comments ironically.

The sorcerer arches a brow. “Are you aware you’re not the only one who cares about Lara, right?” He takes a step forward. “I can help you.”

“Wow, Doctor Stephen Strange tries to be helpful, what a day,” Jonathan jokes. After a moment he sighs loudly. “Sorry, it’s- I don’t know, I just hate the idea of Elle being around that d*ckhead.”

Jonathan moves a hand through his hair and Stephen leans his head slightly to the side. “There’s two of us then.”

The other man smiles and gets inside the car, moving a hand on the steering wheel.  _ “This is the last time I spare people ‘cause Miss America told me to.” _ Then he throws a glance outside, to Stephen, who is still standing there. “So, are you coming?”

_ “Die Blätter wehen in die Eingangshalle, es wird langsam Herbst.¹” _

How someone who can’t even drive straight managed to get a driving licence is still a mystery to Lara. As Alex’s apparent best friend - or at least the one who seems less disgusted by his barely legal jokes - struggles to drive better than a drunk elephant, Lara leans with the side of her head against the window. She has no idea why, but since she woke up surrounded by those total strangers she has had a severe headache. And Alex’s behaviour didn’t help at all.

The man, in the meantime, is slouched in the backseat with her, an arm wrapped around her waist and a hand that sometimes wanders around her body. It’s in times like this that she hopes the idiot driving crashed the car against a tree. Seeing the assh*le beside her having his neck broken would be priceless.

“Hey doll, when we get home I expect an apology for being away all this time,” Alex jokes with his usual sh*t-eating grin.

Lara just nods. If only that idiot crashed the car against a tree.

She grips the edge of the sink and draws in a sharp breath. Thank God he left hours before. She caresses her neck gently and she wonders how in hell she is still not used to his “displays of affection.” Where has she lived for the past years? Her whole body is in pain and her knees are weak. So. F*cking. Weak. “Relax. Deep breaths. It’s over. For now.” Her voice is so shaky that she can barely hear it herself.

The corner of her eyes captures the sight of something moving not far from her. She turns around to see a small blue butterfly flying around the window. She furrows her brows and offers it a finger for the insect to lay on. “And how did you get inside, little thing?” she asks softly, but the butterfly doesn’t answer and, after having a little stroll on her index finger, it flies right on her nose.

She giggles weakly, forgetting for a moment the pain spread all across her body. “Okay princess,” she says as she carefully clasps the small animal in her hands, “I’m afraid you have to leave now.”

She opens her hands just enough to see her flying friend slowly flapping its wings.  _ “I’m not an expert but I’m quite sure butterflies are not supposed to be this… blue.” _

Lara walks to the kitchen window, left open by Alex. _“As usual.”_ Letting out a breath, she frees the way-too-small butterflies of its meat cage, inviting it to leave. But instead, it turns around and stares at her… _sadly?_ _“How is it even possible for butterflies to be sad? And how do I know it’s sad?”_

“I don’t like this either, but if my boyfriend finds out I let insects inside the house he’ll kill us both.” Her gaze falls down. “Quite literally.” She sighs loudly and tilts her head slightly to the side. “Please, do it for me.”

She’s about to say something else, but suddenly her eyelids fall closed against her will and the butterfly’s dark blue wings are the last thing she sees.

Stephen catches her fall just in time, an arm wrapping around her waist before she can hit her head against the windowsill. He moves his other arm under her knees and picks her up, before turning to the butterfly still flying around the asleep woman. “Thank you for distracting her, I suppose.”

In the same moment, Jonathan storms into the room. “The assh*le has already left.” Then he looks at his sister. “How is she?”

“I didn’t really get to ask,” he replies, Lara’s butterfly friend disappearing with a movement of his fingers. “But I hope she’ll be able to tell you herself soon.”

Jonathan nods, moving a hand to caress Lara’s cheek and the red mark covering her neck and jaw. 

_ “Nie wieder diese Schmerzen spüren, nie wieder will sie je ihren Stolz verlieren.²” _

“I hope so too.”

“What’s it, a familiar thing, to find that garbage drinkable?”

Jonathan smirks, taking another sip of his coffee. Well, actually coffee mixed with energy drinks. And it somehow even tastes better than before. “You’ve never drunk autogrill coffee and it shows,” he replies.

The sorcerer groans, the Cloak shifting on his shoulders to cover Lara’s. Stephen can’t help smiling weakly, adjusting in his seat to make sure Lara is comfortable against his side.

“Can you tell your friend to leave my sister alone?” Jonathan comments from behind the steering wheel, his eyes rolling so far back that he could be envied by howls.

“It did not-”

“I was talking with the Cloak.”

“Very funny,” Stephen replies sarcastically. “How about you stop joking and start driving like a decent adult?”

“‘Cause you’re an amazing driver, I suppose.”

“Better than you for sure.”

“You must have a hard time buying hats that your head fits into.”

Their argument is interrupted by a SUV pushing them off the road, two men stepping out of the vehicle to drag Jonathan on the street. 

When the first punch hits his face, Stephen leaves the Cloak with Lara and rushes to help him, only for an arm to wrap around his throat. He doesn’t even have to turn around to understand who it is.

_ “Sie verriegelt alle Fenster und dreht den Gashahn auf.³” _

Stephen’s scream as Alex twists his already damaged wrist does not stop that psychopath, but it does something else. Lara’s eyes open suddenly and she sits up, her gaze jumping around as she tries to understand what is going on, her head hurting more than anything else. And then, out of nowhere, she hears someone in her head again. And memories wash over her like a flood, thirty hours of events come to her mind one by one and all at the same time. 

_ “Dann verlassen sie die Wohnung, sie schaut nicht mehr zurück.⁴” _

Without hesitation, she reaches for Jonathan’s gun, laying useless on the passenger seat, and gets out of the car.

Before her eyes, her brother is struggling to get up, his face covered in blood, most likely both his and someone else’s. A guy is lying motionless not far from him and a second one is breathing heavily, staring with horror at his arm facing in the exact direction an arm should never be facing. Her heart skips a beat when her eyes set on Alex kicking Stephen in the crotch and immediately choking him, pushing his back against the warm asphalt as the sorcerer fights to push him away.

_ “Am nächsten Morgen liest man in der Zeitung.⁵” _

In no more than a second, she has her gun pointed at the two men. “Take your f*cking hands off him  _ now _ ,” she orders between gritted teeth.

Stephen looks at her for a moment, his breath heavy. He swallows and retracts his hands ever so slowly as Alex’s lips paint with the biggest grin he has probably ever made. He’s about to say something. Or maybe punch him another time.

_ “Ein tragisches Unglück.⁶” _

A shoot. And Alex is lying with his back on the road, his skull pierced by a clean shot right to the forehead.

Lara doesn’t have the time to take a breath that Jonathan is already there to hug her tightly enough to break her ribcage. She lets the gun fall and seeks refuge in his arms, mumbling an endless series of apologies against his chest.

He doesn’t answer, shaking his head softly and peppering kisses on her temple. He’s smiling so much that his cheeks are hurting, but he doesn’t care. “You’re safe,” he whispers in the end, more to reassure himself than her.

She nods, her cheeks carved by tears, and she suddenly turns towards Stephen. The sorcerer is sitting still, the Cloak back on his shoulders, and he massages his wrists to ease the pain in his hands. Before he can even realize it, she’s hugging him.

“Stephen, I’m so, so sorry,” she sobs against his face. “I- I- Sorry, sorry,” she continues, soaking his robes in tears as the Cloak moves a flap to wipe her cheek.

He looks up at Jonathan for a moment, then brings a shaking hand to her head and begins caressing her hair slowly, even more than usual. “It’s okay, Elle. We’re fine, I-”

And there it comes, the moment when he is sure she will not interrupt him, when he can express what he has tried to say before but always failed. But now he’s not so sure he should. In his arms, she seems so fragile that he is even scared to touch her, let alone confess her his undying love. Or tell her that he would gladly let her kill him, even if it makes some bloody psychopath happy.

He would love to tell her these things, but maybe she would not understand them. Or accept them. Or both. At least not now. Not now that she’s just freed herself of that joke of a human being. Maybe, one day. But not now. Now he has a feeling she would not be able to understand why someone would love the doctor who knows both the periodic table by heart and how to get away with murder, who giggles at butterflies sitting on her nose, who is always ready to sacrifice herself for anyone, who dies a little everytime that someone gets hurt. Or at least why someone would do that without getting anything from it.

Maybe he will tell her another time, when she’s ready. And when he has found a better way to explain it instead of those over-used three words. It’s not like she’s going anywhere, right? 

He tightens his arms around her, burying his nose in her messy hair. “It’s okay,” he repeats, his voice hoarse, “I promise.” Or at least he hopes so. It has to be okay. It will be okay.  _ She _ will be okay. And Alex will never reach her. Never again. 

_ “Mein Körper ist mein, ich gehöre dir nicht.⁷” _

  
  
  


¹The leaves blow into the entrance hall, autumn’s slowly coming.

²Never again feeling this pain, never again she wants to lose her pride.

³She closes all windows and turns on the gas tap.

⁴They leave the apartment, she never looks back.

⁵On the next morning, you read on the newspapers.

⁶A sad tragedy.

⁷My body is mine, I don’t belong you.


End file.
